


I'll Be Home For Christmas

by Tisha P Moon (tisha_p_moon)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Christmas Time, Destiel Subtext, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Castiel (Supernatural), Missing Castiel, Sastiel Subtext, Worried Dean, Worried Sam, supernatural Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-14 04:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16486019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisha_p_moon/pseuds/Tisha%20P%20Moon
Summary: It's Christmas time, and the Winchesters are all busy getting ready for the first real celebration of the holiday they've had for years! But when Sam and Dean come home from Christmas shopping to find Castiel missing, they're unsure if something has taken their friend or not. While Sam works on calming a frantic Dean, Castiel is in his own predicament. Stuck in the middle of the woods with a broken leg, he has no idea how he's going to get home. And Sam and Dean aren't supposed to know where he is. It's a race against the clock to bring Cas home for Christmas, and they might even see familiar faces along the way.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is an updated Christmas fic for those of us who'd like to see Christmas in the Bunker! Set between Tombstone (13x6) and War of the Worlds (13x7).  
> Major kudos (Ha ha, see what I did there;-)) to @RooBear1968 on Twitter, my wonderful beta for helping me tweak this, and to all my pocket (internet) friends who've cheered me on along the way. I love you guys! Posting schedule will be in notes below.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of it's characters or places or things.

Dean drove the Impala out of the bunker, keeping a firm hand on the wheel as he maneuvered her along the gravel lane, and then onto the highway that led to town. He and Sam were headed in to purchase and/or pick-up their presents for Christmas, with Cas volunteering to stay behind and decorate the bunker. Apparently he'd already "collected" his gifts. He glanced over at Sam in the passenger seat, once he got them onto the empty stretch of highway. Sam appeared to be quite busy on his phone. Tapping and scrolling, his fingers were almost a blur on the screen.  
"What are you doing, Sam?" He gave his brother another quick look, meeting his eyes for a second as Sam glanced up at the sound of his name.  
"I'm double-checking that the package I ordered arrived at the post office," answered Sam as he continued looking at the small screen in his hand.  
Confusion filled Dean's eyes. "What like, online, you mean?"  
"Yeah, of course." Sam lifted his head up, doing a double-take at just how incredulous the look on Dean’s face was. "You just need the tracking number, Dean." The last said with only a little bit of mocking.  
He immediately feigned momentary ignorance. "No, yeah, right, sure. Knew that."  
Sam gave him a look as Dean turned his head away, quietly mouthing tracking number? to himself in bewilderment. He gave his head a shake as he completely turned back to the road.  
"Well, I have to head to the post office too, so we might as well stop there first." He glanced at Sam, checking to see if that was okay. The gargantuan's eyes stayed glued to his screen. "Then we split up from there?" This time Sam gave a nod of agreement as he simultaneously slipped his phone into his back pocket. The Impala rumbled on, the acres of farmland rolling past, blurring through the windows, as they continued down the stretch of two-lane asphalt towards town.  
* * *  
They arrived back at the bunker after about two hours of picking up ordered gifts and doing some last minute grocery shopping. Along with the ingredients for homemade waffles (a new Christmas morning tradition), they'd also found some extra decorations that they thought would look good around the bunker.  
Well, Sam thought they'd look good. Dean didn't really see the point. All of his Christmas memories involved dirty motels, spiked eggnog (if they were lucky), and in more recent years, feeling pretty crappy after being tossed around by the latest "monster of the week". He cocked his head, remembering that Charlie had called them that once. But this was one of their first Christmases in the bunker, and if Sammy wanted to make it special, then Dean would give him the red flannel shirt off his back for a Christmas rug if he thought it would help!  
Dean pulled Baby into the garage and put her in park. Sam immediately got out, heading to the trunk to grab his own bag of presents. It had been Sam's idea to bring black garbage bags to put their stuff in. That way they’d both be surprised at their gifts. Ever the smart one outta the two of us, Dean thought with pride.  
They each grabbed their own stuff, and split the grocery bags between them. Spose we coulda called Cas to help, Dean mused. Oh well. After so many years, it'd just been automatic to work as a two-man team.  
As they headed down the other hall that led to the entrance part of the main room, Dean called out jokingly, "Honey, I'm home!" He liked to do it just to see the exasperated looks on both Cas' and his younger brother's faces, honestly. He tried to get Sam's attention from behind so he could get a look at his expression, but Sam had stopped dead at the end of the hallway, staring out into the main room. He was also blocking the whole entrance.  
"Yo, Sammy," Dean spoke, trying to get his attention. He nudged his brother out of the way with his shoulder. "Hey, earth to Sam!" he chuckled, his eyes fixed solely on Sam's, which were wide and staring, as he stepped around his giant moose of a brother. "What are you..." Dean trailed off, as he finally got within view of the main room. He also stopped dead. "H-holy craaaaaap..." Dean managed to get out, as both Winchesters stared in awe at the glittering, glowing, red and green decorations that covered every inch of the room. Cas had outdone himself this time.  
* * *  
Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Dean stop next to him at the edge of the room, jaw slack in astonishment. Did he say something? Sam honestly wasn't sure, he was so distracted by the spectacle in front of him.  
It was spectacular! It reminded Sam of the way Hogwarts would look during Christmas time, all tan stone walls and lights everywhere. Boughs of green pine needles (fake, of course) had been strung with little, white lights, and were attached to any and all available spaces in the bunker. The railings that led to the door, the posts holding the ceiling up, even the small, grey door that housed the electrical circuits had one wrapped around it. A wreath hung on the door at the top of the staircase, another one over the doorway to the library, through which they could see that the library was similarly decorated. There were even paper snowflakes hanging off the backs of the chairs.  
Sam finally pulled himself out of his stupor, as Dean bent down beside him, setting one of his bags next to the entrance, tucking it against the wall.  
"Guess we won't be needing these anymore," stated Dean ruefully. Sam had to agree. Their small bag of holiday decor now looked pathetic in comparison.  
"I can't believe Cas did all this!" Sam spoke with excited awe. He couldn't believe they were gonna have a real Christmas for once!  
"But where did he find all this?" asked Dean in bewilderment. "It's... impressive, that's for sure, but where did it all come from?"  
"I have no idea," Sam answered frankly. "But it's pretty nice."  
"Yeah." Dean's voice had gone soft. "But where is he, anyway?"  
"Dunno. Hey, Cas! We're back!" Sam projected his voice out, hoping Cas could hear them even if he was down another hallway. No answer. Sam shrugged. "Must be in his room." He couldn't think of anywhere else he'd need to go. He would've called them if he had to leave the bunker.  
Dean seemed reluctant, but nodded his head anyway. "Hmm. Must be." Dean glanced toward the kitchen, catching his eye before nodding in that direction. "Better get these groceries put away." He hummed in agreement, already heading that way, Dean once again following behind.  
When they got to the kitchen, after ducking underneath the snowflakes hanging in the doorway, they both quickly set their bags on the counter. Dean took off then, taking his own garbage bag of gifts, and heading toward his bedroom. Sam smirked as his brother left. Dean always hated putting groceries away. Must've seen this as two birds, one stone.  
He went about putting stuff away, starting with the eggs, and quickly getting distracted by the mess that was left over from breakfast. Crumbs went in the garbage, dirty dishes went in the sink.  
He was just about to grab a washcloth for the dishes when he noticed Cas had left his slippers by the door. Dean had gotten him these fluffy, blue slippers, almost as a joke, but Cas had enjoyed using them in the morning before the heat kicked in. He wondered why Cas had left them in here.  
Speaking of, where was Cas? Usually he would've been in here by now, offering to help put stuff away. Sam stood there for a moment, mentally scratching his head, when Dean rushed into the room. His pupils were blown wide, and there was an almost panicked expression on his face.  
"Dude, I can't find Cas!" Dean barked out.  
"What?" Sam was incredulous. "I mean, are you sure he's not just... taking a shower or something?"  
"No, I was just in there."  
"Okay, well, where else have you looked?"  
"Uh, he's not in his room, he's not in the showers or the regular bathroom, the hallways, the map room, or..." Dean wildly swung his arms outward. "...the kitchen!"  
He suppressed his own flare of anxiety. Dean was getting more and more agitated with every word, and he needed to stay calm to better help his brother. He knew Dean was still sensitive after the massacre of their remaining friends a few weeks ago (or ally, in the case of Crowley). And Sam was too, he just knew he had to keep his own fears in check in order to better take of Dean. So he pushed down all of his own worries, anxieties, and fears and tried to think logically.  
"Okay, so..." he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep the quickly-forming headache at bay. "There's still a lot of places he could be, Dean. Try not to get too worried. At least not until we've looked everywhere." He stepped up in front of his brother, placing his hands on his shoulders, as Dean turned wide eyes on his brother. Eyes that were desperately trying to hide how terrified they actually were. Sam continued, "Okay? We're gonna find him, man. I promise." Sam could see the war waging in his brother's features, as Dean tried to fight down his emotions enough to get his own mask back in place. Sam knew he had succeeded when Dean ran a shuddering hand down his face.  
"Okay." Dean's voice was steady. "Yeah, that sounds good."  
"How about you check the storeroom and the dungeon, I'll recheck the library, and take a look in the garage," Sam said, suggesting the plan he had managed to come up with while watching his brother reign it in.  
"Okay, sounds good," Dean repeated, giving his brother a quick pat on the shoulder, as he hurried off to his task. Sam gave one last glance at Dean's retreating figure before he headed out of the kitchen. He prayed to anybody listening that Cas was simply holed up somewhere with a book. For everyone's sanity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our first glimpse of Castiel's predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those people who have reviewed, favourited, or followed! It means *a lot* to us writer types when you do! Chapter 2, up as scheduled.  
> Who liked "Mint Condition" (14x4) last night? I thought it was decent. I'm not a horror fan though, and too young to get most of the references (Thelma & Louise, Rocky & Bullwinkle) that they do, so it's not as interesting to me. But come drop me a line on Twitter at @saileensamwitch if you like discussing the eps!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or it's characters, places, or things.

Cas started awake, groaning as a dull, throbbing pain blossomed in his head and on his side. He fought to pull himself back to full consciousness, but in the split second before true awareness returned, he wondered which monster exactly had gotten the jump on him this time. He’d been thrown in quite the filthy prison, by the feel of it.  
He finally opened his eyes, his vision swimming for just a second as he pushed himself up on his elbows to look around. Memories of falling a great height were coming back to him.  
He appeared to be in, well, a literal hole in the ground. Not a prison, as he’d originally thought. Nothing but tightly-packed earth met his probing fingertips. Though the wall did have many sharp stones only partially embedded in the walls. Actually, what he’d taken for rocks on the ground appeared to be splinters of wood, of all sizes. His brow knit in consternation as he stared at them.  
“What are you doing down here?” he asked them directly. No answer. Rude.  
It was at this point that Cas’s entire memory came rushing back. He shook his head in growing horror, as his situation became more and more clear to him. He’d been searching the woods, a little spot he’d located an hour away from the Bunker, for a Christmas tree to surprise the Winchesters with. It was the last thing they had to acquire to complete the holiday scene in their home. That’s right, Cas thought. He had volunteered to decorate the Bunker while Sam and Dean went into town, as he had collected all his presents weeks ago. He’d found several boxes of Christmas decor in one of the little-used archive rooms a week ago, and had mapped out exactly where it would all go for maximum efficiency. When the day came he’d managed to finish decorating in 45 minutes, had driven all the way to the woods in just under an hour, and had only been searching the woods for about 15 minutes when his mistake of not watching where he was putting his feet caught up to him. All of a sudden, it had felt like the proverbial rug had been swept out from under him. He’d found himself falling down into the earth before he’d heard a crack, felt a sharp pain in his head and it had all gone black.  
But just how deep was this hole? Pushing himself up to a seated position, he felt an uncomfortable pain shoot through his left leg, which he ignored. Castiel peered upward, blinking owlishly at the fluffy white flakes that drifted downward, catching in his hair and eyelashes. Their stinging cold turned his cheeks pink. But looking upward, it wasn’t the snowflakes that sent a shard of ice through Cas’ heart.  
For there, about 15 feet above his head, was the steel-grey sky, roiling with dark clouds. The tops of the evergreens just barely visible around the edges of the opening.  
He took in a long breath, letting it out heavily as his eyes roved, searching for clues. He noticed that there were planks of wood that had been dug into the ground around the top of the hole. Almost as if… Castiel squinted his eyes, as he looked back down at the broken pieces of wood scattered around him. Realization dawned.  
“This is a well!” He spoke aloud, exasperation clear in his voice. He looked back down at the splinters. “You must be the remains of the cover.”  
His ribs rose and fell stiffly, protesting the unwanted movement of his sore side, as he took in a breath. What on earth was he going to do? Tonight was Christmas Eve, and they didn’t have a Christmas tree. What were his options?  
Oh! Option number one: his phone! He quickly patted down his pockets, but it didn’t take long before a crucial fact came back to mind.  
Right, he thought ruefully. He’d left his phone in the truck.  
Dropping his head forward in frustration, Cas noticed that the laces on his now-filthy dress shoes had come undone. Bending his knee to better reach the shoe, however, drew a startled gasp from him. White-hot lines of pain flew up his leg, causing him to grunt as he let his leg fall back. Time to assess that particular situation.  
Steadying his back against the wall, he stretched his hand out over his leg, letting a dull, blue glow shine downward. His eyes squinted shut in concentration. It appeared the leg was broken. Well, at least there was one thing he could fix.  
Lowering his hand slightly, still overtop of his leg, he allowed the glow to become brighter, filling up the small space, illuminating every crack and rock in the wall.  
He let his hand fall to the side after only a short time though, the glow of his angelic grace fading to nothing as he took stock of the injury.  
Hmm, he thought, frowning down at his still-injured leg. Apparently he was still recovering from his ordeal in The Empty. Instead of completely healing the break as he should have, the damage had only gone down to that of a simple fracture. While it would still be painful to walk on, it would be less than if it had remained a compound fracture.  
Castiel now had full appreciation for Murphy's Law. What was it Dean liked to call it? Oh right. “Winchester luck”.  
Option number two: Yell for help. Would there even be anyone around, though? The house - well, more of a shack, really - that the well had belonged to fit the definition of “abandoned” perfectly. Weather-beaten wood exterior, dark windows, and several holes in the roof had all added up to that description.  
He had to try though. He currently wasn’t going anywhere, with his leg in its current state, and with his phone gone, it seemed his only option.  
Sitting himself up straighter, Castiel turned his face to the sky. As the dark clouds started gathering overhead, he began to yell, hoping against hope that someone would hear him.  
And the snow fell harder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get set in motion back at the Bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy Chapter 3!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or it's characters, places, or things.

Sam strode quickly towards the garage, hoping he wouldn’t see what he was currently thinking. Cas hadn’t been in the library, and judging by the fact that he hadn’t heard anything from Dean yet, he wasn’t in the deeper recesses of the Bunker either.  
He walked around the corner, and stopped, a groan already sounding throughout the room, his hands covering his face for a split second as if trying to wipe the image of what wasn’t there from his mind.  
Just as he’d suspected, Cas’s truck was gone, no longer sitting in it’s usual spot. How had neither of them noticed the missing truck? They’d been in here less than an hour ago!  
Taking a deep breath, he began to think. At least the truck being gone made it seem like Cas had left on his own, rather than being taken.  
He had to go find Dean.  
He walked into the library at the same time Dean did, both looking to the other with hopeful expressions, both turning to worry as they saw the other was empty-handed.  
“Nothing?” Dean asked, trying and failing to keep the worry out of his voice.  
Sam shook his head. “The truck’s gone, Dean.” His voice was sorrowful. He realized his mistake though as soon as it left his mouth. “But, that’s… that’s a good sign! Right? It means he must’ve left on his own! A demon or an angel wouldn’t have bothered with it.” He tried to infuse hopefulness into his voice, encouraging his brother to see the silver lining. Hopefully sound logic would do that.

* * *

Dean thought over Sam’s words for only a second before turning dejected again.  
“But why, Sam?” He asked his brother. “Where would he need to go? And why wouldn’t he tell us?”  
He watched Sam’s face fall, admitting defeat. “I don’t know, Dean.”  
Then a thought occurred to Dean, and his face lit up as he spoke the idea aloud. “What if he got a lead on Jack?”  
The nephilim had been missing for a couple days now, and their efforts to find him had so far yielded nothing.  
Sam hated to point out the obvious, and put that disappointed look back on his brother’s face. So Sam only said, “Maybe. I s’pose it’s possible.”  
Dean could tell what his brother was thinking. That if it had been a lead, Cas would’ve called them. He wouldn’t have just left. He appreciated Sam letting him hold onto the small hope though, as unlikely as it was.  
“So what’s our next move?” questioned Sam, crossing his arms, and unconsciously widening his stance.  
Inspiration hit Dean, and he moved to pull his phone from his pocket. He saw recognition dawn on Sam’s face, as his giant of a brother realized what he was doing.   
Dean hit Cas’s speed dial on his phone (number 2), and held it up to his ear. Turning away from Sam, he started shoring up the chinks in his mask. He knew his brother wouldn’t judge him, but he didn’t want his fear to show either way. His anxiety amped up though as the phone began to ring… and ring… and ring… and pretty soon Cas’ voicemail came on. Dean’s features turned dark as Cas’ confused voice stated, “This is my voicemail. Make your voice a - ” before Dean shut it off, his fist clenching tightly around the phone in frustration.   
Sam’s face gave away that he knew what had happened, or guessed as much, even before Dean said it.  
“He’s not picking up,” he said keeping his voice low. Though by the tight look on Sam’s face, he hadn’t managed to keep the anger out of it.  
“It doesn’t mean anything yet, Dean.” Sam’s voice was low and comforting. It grated on Dean’s nerves.  
Sam continued, “It could - he could just be - ”  
“I know, Sam!” Dean’s voice came out harsher than he’d meant it. Damn it, he was just so frustrated! He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, as a more apologetic, “I know,” came out. The sorry, Sammy, left unspoken like always. He got a nod from Sam. His brother knew he hadn’t meant it.  
He was suddenly very aware of the distance between the two of them. Each of them were still standing where’d they entered at opposite ends of the table, and his brother seemed to take notice of it at the same time, cause he uncrossed his arms and stepped up in front of his older sibling.  
He watched Sam make a move as if to put his hands on his shoulders - like before - but stopped, instead letting them fall to his sides. Dean appreciated it. He didn’t know if he could stand being touched right now, which Sam seemed to realize.  
“Dean, I promised we’d find him, and we will. He’s probably just out on a lead. He’s only got, what?” Sam glanced at his watch, giving a short sigh as he realized the time. “He’s only got, uh, a two and a half hour lead on us. We’ll find him in no time! Everything’s gonna be fine, Dean. Dean?”  
Dean almost zoned out, into his own head as he stared at his brother’s eyes, pleading with him to be okay. Damn, when had Sam pulled out the puppy eyes? He’d clearly been more lost in his own head than he’d originally thought. The urge to punch something was slowly fading as more and more of his brother’s words reached him. He was just… ugh, he was worried! They’d just gotten Cas back, and what with Jack taking off, and their mother -  
Dean shut that trail of thought down fast. This wasn’t the same thing. Cas wasn’t dead, he was just… missing. They’d gone out on a trip, and he wasn’t here when they got back. He chuckled to himself as a line popped into his head. But it was then that his brother’s voice reached him.  
“Dean? Dean, are you okay?”  
Dean blinked as if coming out of a trance, answering his brother with an “Mmm,” as he focused back in on Sam.  
“You know everything’s gonna be fine, right Dean?”  
“Yeah, Sammy.” His tone was oddly light, with none of the earlier edge it had held. “Yeah, he’s… we went out on a shopping trip.” He shrugged, a soft smile on his face. “And Cas hasn’t been home in a few hours.”  
Sam stared at his brother for a few seconds, clearly trying to gauge his brother’s mental state. Then he huffed out a laugh, his shoulders visibly relaxing.  
“Alright then!” Dean grinned at him. “Let’s go find Cas.”

* * *

Five minutes later, Sam was set up at the table searching the traffic cams for Cas’ truck, while Dean was on his laptop locating the GPS on his phone. It was a way to double check their work.  
“I got it!” Sam piped up. “Looks like he was heading… north?” He leaned in, squinting at the screen. “It’s definitely Cas driving though.” A look of uncertainty suddenly crossed his face, and he was quickly amending, “Or at least, Cas’ vessel.”  
Sam and Dean shared a look across the table. What if it was Lucifer again? They looked away from each other, not wanting to follow that line of thought all the way to the end. One step at a time. Find Cas first.  
Dean spoke up. “North, you said?” He squinted at his computer screen. “Yeah, that matches up with what I’ve got. GPS says he’s… about an hour out.”  
“Alright then,” said Sam, shutting his laptop. “Let’s head out.”  
The two of them got out of their chairs, pausing only to grab their coats and duffels. In a matter of minutes, they were both in the Impala, gear stashed in the truck, peeling out of the Bunker and onto the highway. Cas already had a headstart on them, so Dean pressed down on the gas as much as he dared.  
But the men shared a look before turning back to the road, both wondering… would they make it in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be shy. Let me know what you think with a comment! Oh and if you feel like it, look me up on Twitter at @saileensamwitch!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy's start catching up to Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's Chapter 4! Thank you all for faves and follows!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, it's characters, places, or things.

Castiel had spent hours researching what exactly constituted a Christmas tree. Okay, so not researching in the usual sense, but the lady at the store had assured him that all the movies he’d picked out were holiday classics. There was one about a miracle… on a street. Oh, and he finally understood why Meg insisted on calling him Clarence… or at least he assumed that was what she’d been referring too. But through all the bingeing, he’d managed to get a pretty decent idea of how a Christmas tree should look.  
But he had not anticipated the dangers of the woods. He sighed. How could he have made such an oversight? Something so simple, and yet it didn’t take very much for him to mess it up. For him to fail.  
The stubble on his chin scraped at his numb hands as he ran them down his face. He’d only wanted to surprise Sam and Dean. How hard did it have to be to find the perfect Christmas tree?  
When you’re involved? a small voice whispered in his ear. Nigh impossible. And he couldn’t help but agree with it.  
He had to think of something to get out of here. It was getting colder by the minute, and while it wouldn’t kill him, the cold would send him into “hibernation mode”. What humans would call a coma. Normally it would awaken him every few hours to keep his grace from going dormant and no longer attempting to heal him, but in his current Fallen state his healing abilities were almost null. Pair that with his exhaustion from The Empty, and he would stay comatose until either the current danger to his essence and vessel was gone, or until he could be healed enough to withstand the danger. At this point, he was pretty sure he simply wouldn’t wake up.  
But he still had one thing left to try. Option number three: Climbing. If he could find good enough handholds in the walls, his broken leg wouldn’t matter. He’d push through the pain.  
His bones creaking from the cold, he went to stand up. Pushing against the walls with both arms to steady himself, he carefully maneuvered his legs. Lances of pain in his injured limb still managed to make him wince. He clutched at the frigid walls for support.  
Standing up straight, he started probing the walls. His long fingers could barely feel the dirt as they sought out any nook and cranny that could be found.  
His hands dropped to his sides, a growl of frustration sounding in echoes all around. There was nothing! How could any wall exposed to nature for so long be so smooth? I couldn’t possibly jump out, could I?  
Joints popping, he stretched his arms upward as high as he could reach, searching for anything he might have missed.  
But it was still a good five feet from the tips of his fingers to the top of the well. Even if he could use his “angel mojo”, there was no way he could get high enough to grab the top.  
So I have no phone, no angel radio, no one nearby, and no climbing or jumping out. Fantastic.  
Resigned, Castiel carefully sat down again to wait. Wait for what? Sam and Dean? I don’t know how they could find me out here. But he had nothing else to do, no more options, so he sat. And hoped the Winchesters would be faster than the cold.

* * *

They’d been driving for half an hour now. Half an hour of tense silence, both men occupied with their own thoughts.  
Dean’s were simple. He was worried. Worried about Cas - They’d just gotten him back, dammit! - and why he’d gone to the middle of the woods. And why he’d left without telling them! Why wouldn’t he tell them? Admittedly, Winchester’s didn’t have the greatest track record when it came to telling each other things. He glanced at Sam, then back to the road. But they were better now! Or so he’d thought. He sighed, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as his thoughts raced ahead. And now they were racing towards who knows what kind of danger, chasing their missing friend. On Christmas Eve of all damn days! As if they didn’t do enough searching for people during the rest of the year.  
If it wouldn’t’ve probably resulted in crashing his Baby, Dean would’ve covered his face in a groan. Instead he just shifted his grip on the wheel again, and pressed on the gas a little harder.

* * *

Sam noticed his brother’s anxious movements, wishing he had the words to calm him. Next thing he knew Dean was speaking.  
“Sam.”  
He turned to his brother, giving him his full attention. “Yeah, Dean? What’s up?”  
“Do you think he’s alright?”  
There was no need to ask who “he” was.  
“I hope so.” He settled back into his seat, staring out at the road.  
Quieter, he said it again, “I hope so.”  
He saw Dean glance at him out of the corner of his eye, so he turned back to him, thinking he had more to say.  
But Dean just stared back at the road, clenching his jaw for just an instant. It was that move that told Sam how worried his brother really was, no matter how he tried to play it off. He just wished he knew what to say.  
Cas, he thought silently, as the scenery rolled by. You better be alright.

* * *

It was another 15 minutes to the woods, and another 5 of driving slowly down the dirt road, following the GPS dot of Cas’s phone. Finally they reached the truck.  
Sam tried to glance in the windows, seeing if Cas was sitting inside. But the inside was black, and the rapidly darkening sky didn’t serve to help make matters clearer.  
Dean put the vehicle in park, and was Sam was already opening the door and climbing out before his brother had time to even turn it off. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean put his phone to his ear as they approached the vehicle.  
He glanced inside. There, laying on the passenger seat was Cas’s ringing phone, the screen lighting the interior. Oh, Cas. He swiped a hand down his face tiredly.  
Looking through the trucks interior to the other side, he saw Dean huff, and put his phone back in his pocket angrily. They made eye contact through the windows, a look passing between them. They moved in sync to meet at in front of the hood.  
“Okay,” Dean started off the conversation. “New plan. We can’t track his phone. Frigging angel didn’t take it with him.”  
“Which means he must be in the woods somewhere,” Sam butted in.  
“Oh great!” Dean’s voice was sarcastic. Flinging his arms wide in a shrug, he continued, “He can’t be that far away, right? I mean, he’s only got a…” Dean went to check his watch, but thinking ahead, Sam had already done the math.  
“About three and a half hours headstart.”  
Dean looked up quickly. “Oh. Oh, only three and a half hours!” He looked down, rubbing his face. “Fantastic.”  
Sam looked up at the sky, zipping his jacket up tighter, as he noted the thickly falling flakes and bitingly cold wind whipping out of the north.  
“Yeah, and this snow isn’t gonna help with tracks. We’ll have to get moving, if we wanna find them at all.”  
He watched his brother resolutely step forward.  
“Then let’s get started.”

* * *

They had managed to find the barest of imprints from Cas’ shoes that hadn’t been erased by the weather, so they’d been following them into the woods. The trees kept the worst of the snow off them, but didn’t do much for the wind. Hunched into their jackets, hands jammed in their pockets, they kept their eyes to the ground, following the tracks. Except for occasionally lifting their heads to shout his name.  
About 10 minutes in, Dean used a hand on Sam’s chest to stop him in his tracks. He saw Sam look down at his hand incredulously before opening his mouth, but Dean was already speaking.  
“Do you hear that?” He looked around with wide eyes.  
Sam immediately closed his mouth, now also darting his eyes around, ears straining to hear what had so captured his brother’s attention.  
And then he heard it. Very, very faint, but the wind carried it to them.  
“Help! Help! Dean? Sam?”  
Now Sam threw his own arm across Dean’s chest as they both clutched each other’s jackets in excitement.  
“Dean. That’s Cas!” Sam’s voice was almost breathless with relief.  
“Yeah, it is.” Dean’s voice was still tight with worry. Before Sam could question him on it though, he had his answer. “But where is he? Cas!”  
Both of them now were completely caught up in concentration, their hands on each other forgotten.  
Several moments passed. Dean wondered if it would even come again.  
Then they heard it, even quieter than before, but Dean was already running towards the call, Sam right behind him.  
Dean sent out a plea to the angel to hold on. We’re coming, Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel wakes up somewhere familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday everyone! Well, probably not so happy lol Hopefully this makes it better. Sorry for the midday update, but I got unexpectedly callin to work and didn’t have time before!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or it's characters, places, or things.

Castiel was floating. Endlessly drifting through black as if time didn’t matter here. As if there was no time. He liked it though. It was quiet, peaceful. No rushing around, and apparently, no one to disappoint either. For it appeared he was by himself.  
His feet apparently coming to rest on, well, more black, he looked around cautiously. Though he wished all of his mind to be at ease, there was still a tiny part of himself that would not forget his long years as a soldier on constant guard. And it seemed he was right to do so.  
For though there appeared to be no visible light source, white light was glinting off some kind of… form, that seemed to grow and take human shape in front of Castiel’s very eyes.  
Suddenly there was a blast of cold air, and he felt chilled to the bone. His hands were numb from it, his feet not much better, and the ends of his hair were now literally frozen.  
Wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to beat back the cold, he suddenly heard a voice as if from far away.  
“Cas!”  
No, make that two voices. Just loud enough in volume to make out.  
“Cas!”  
“Cas! Where are you?”  
Suddenly a disturbed hissing sound startled him, and an angry voice issued from the glistening black form in front of him.  
“You,” it hissed. “How are you here, again?!”  
Everything happened at once. The hissing grew to an almost unbearable pitch at the same time he heard the voices shouting his name grow louder. The resulting cacophony had him covering his ears in pain, just as the form lunged toward him with outstretched hands, wanting to wring his ne-  
And then he was conscious, and opening his eyes to almost pitch black. But here there definitely was a light source.  
Lifting his head, he could see the moon just above the trees. It was just a sliver, but it was enough.  
Pitch black, he thought with a shiver. Naturally his thoughts turned towards the hissing creature that had tried to attack him. It knew me! That thing acted like I’d been there before. He was sure he would’ve remembered such a chilling place.  
Catching a speck of white out of the corner of his eye, he looked down at himself, discovering that his whole front from his shoulders all the way to his boots was covered in a fine layer of snow.  
He shivered at the sight, realizing that his body must’ve forced him unconscious, shutting down everything that wasn’t essential to conserve heat and energy. With his grace weakened the way that it was, he realized that he was incredibly lucky to have woken up at all.  
But just as he was trying to remember what had woken him up in the first place, he heard the shouts again.  
“Cas!”  
“Cas, man, where are you?!”  
Sam and Dean! It was Sam and Dean that had woken him up from that nightmare! He was sure now that’s what it had been. Just a nightmare.  
He tried to call out to them, but his throat was so hoarse from the yelling earlier that nothing but a croak came out. He quickly cleared his throat and tried again.  
“Help! Help, I’m down here!”  
Silence.  
“Dean? Sam?”  
Still nothing but the snow softly falling.  
He managed a few more cries for help before he simply ran out of energy. The cold and exhaustion had completely sapped his strength.  
Still nothing but silence from up above. He sighed. Perhaps he’d imagined them after all.  
Trying to think of ways to keep himself awake and away from that place, he settled back in to wait for the inevitable. He was pretty sure the next time he fell asleep he would not wake up.

* * *

Dean slid to a stop, skidding in the the fresh snow and almost face-planting before his brother caught him. As soon as he got his feet under him though, he shrugged him off in embarrassment. He saw Sam shoot him a bitchface, but he pretended not to notice, deciding instead to look around.  
They’d come out in a clearing of sorts. There were just enough trees scrubbed back to make room for a house and a small yard. Well, “house” wasn’t really accurate anymore. The thing was falling apart. Dean was surprised it was still standing, to be honest.  
“Dean.”  
He turned around at Sam calling his name. They locked eyes before Dean followed his brother’s pointing finger, landing on the just-barely-there tracks in the snow. Leading toward the house.  
Dean squinted. Actually, leading toward that black as hell hole in the ground.  
He tapped Sam on the arm with the back of his hand, catching his eye and nodding towards the hole.  
“Let’s check it out.”  
Sam nodded his agreement.  
“Cas?” his beanstalk of a brother called out.  
Silence.  
They start walking towards it anyway, mindful of any other possible pitfalls. They’re almost there when Dean notices a scrap of tan cloth, torn, clinging to the edge of some broken wood. His eyes go wide.  
“Cas?!” he calls out, running the last few feet to the edge of the pit, Sam keeping up behind him.  
He skids to a stop, immediately falling to his hands and knees to peer over the edge.  
“Oh God… Cas,” Sam audibly gulps. And Dean has to admit it’s not a pretty sight.  
Cas is lying at the bottom of the well, eyes closed, breaths obviously shallow, and there was crusted blood trailing a path down his temple.  
“Cas?! Wake up, man!” Dean’s voice was desperate. He can’t be… he just can’t be - but Cas doesn’t stir.  
“I’m going down there,” Dean says to Sam, finally tearing his gaze away from his injured friend.  
His brother’s look was incredulous. “What? No, Dean, you can’t -”  
“I have too! I mean, look at him! We’ve been calling his name for ages and he’s still not waking u -”  
“Dean?” A quiet voice calls.  
Sam and Dean’s heads snap back around to look down the well almost comically. Cas is peering up at them, relief clear on his features.  
Sam’s voice was joyous. “Cas, you’re alive!” Dean was pretty sure he’d never seen his brother with a bigger grin.  
“I need help though,” Castiel continued. “My left leg is broken, and I can’t heal it all the way.”  
“That’s okay, man. Dean’s gonna come down and help.”  
“Yeah, just give us a sec!” Dean chimed in.  
The brothers quickly manoeuvre themselves, Dean taking Sam’s hands as he braced himself on the ground, lowering Dean as far as he can. Dean simply drops the rest of the way.  
As best they can, Dean helps Cas to stand. Cupping his hands for Cas to step into with his good foot, he hoists him high enough for Sammy to grab his arm and pull him out.  
Dean reaches for Sam’s hand, seeing Cas just lying in the snow as he comes up over the top. Dude’s breathing like he just ran a marathon.  
He sits down beside him, not even caring about getting his jeans wet. He just needs a minute to get his energy back. Sam sits down too, all three of them just breathing.  
“Alright,” Dean grunts out after several minutes. He looks at Cas. “Let’s get you to the car.”  
Sam grunts his agreement.  
Cas looks surprised. “Why -”  
“Are we not grilling you?”  
He nods.  
“We’re just glad to have you back, Cas.”  
Cas sighs with relief.  
“Plus, I figure we can do that later. Once we’re actually back at the car.”  
Cas nods his understanding as Dean pulls his arm over his shoulder, Sam stooping to do the same on the other side.  
They got Cas back, and Dean takes a second to just be thankful. It coulda been a lot worse.  
“Let’s get you home.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much needed conversation happens on the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Your reviews have been giving me life, thank you so much! Hope you guys have a great Tuesday :-)

Castiel sat down heavily in the back of the Impala. Facing the door, his feet hanging over the side, he just wanted to catch his breath for a minute. But Dean was already coming around behind him, trying to gently ease his shoulders down. Oh, he wants me to lie down, he thinks tiredly.   
As he moved to comply, he glimpsed something behind Sam, what looked like a figure watching them from the woods. He jerked minutely in Dean’s grip, his arms in Sam’s hands flinched as he turned his head. Except that there was nothing there.  
“Cas?” Sam asked, his worried face appearing in Cas’ vision as he ducked his head to better assess his friend.  
He shook his head. The flash of floppy brown hair, tan jacket, and jeans replayed in his mind. “I thought…” I saw Jack. He swallowed hard. “It was nothing.”  
Sam cocked his head at him in that way that let Castiel know he didn’t buy it but wasn’t going to push. Cas was grateful for that.  
But he also didn’t miss the look both brothers shared over his head, or the way Dean’s grip tightened slightly on his shoulders, once again guiding them downward.  
He held his head up when Dean nudged him too so he could shut the car door. He let it fall back afterwards, his eyes closed while Sam finished arranging his leg, taking off his jacket to use as a pillow for propping the angel’s broken appendage up.   
Cas listened to the creak of the doors opening and closing, felt the sway of the car as they settled in their seats, and greatly enjoyed the soothing rumble of the car when Dean turned her on.  
They headed for home.

* * *

“A Christmas tree, Cas?! Really?! That’s why you -” Dean cut himself off with a frustrated growl. “That’s why you almost died?” He drew in a breath to continue yelling, but stopped when he noticed Sam giving him that part-frustrated, part-puppy eyes look.  
“What?” Dean asked angrily, clearly still upset.  
Now Sam full-on glared at him. “Dean!” he said, his voice tight with restraint. “He was just trying to help.” His voice lowered. “He was -” A quick glance at the backseat. “- trying to do something nice for us.”  
Dean glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up, in the mirror and felt his anger slip away. Cas looked vaguely like a kicked puppy trying not to cry, his head bent as he looked at the floor.  
“Aw Cas, you know I didn’t… you know I didn’t mean…” He sighed. “I was worried, man. We both were. I - we just don’t want to see you end up…” dead. Again.  
“It’s alright, Dean.” Cas gave him a small smile. “I understand.”  
“Cas, man,” started Sam. “You just… you mean a lot to us. And when you weren’t at the Bunker, with everything that’s happened to you… it scared us.” Sam turned to look right in the angel’s eyes. “We don’t want anything to happen to you.”   
Dean hummed his agreement from the driver’s seat.  
Castiel matched Sam’s soulful look when he quietly said, “I know.” In the next instant, his face turned regretful. “You two have just done so much for me, I wanted to be able to give something back for once.”  
Before Sam or Dean could even start to argue with that, Cas continued, “And every holiday film I watched had a tree in it, and I didn’t find any trees of the correct type around the Bunker. Hence the hour’s drive.” His face was completely blank, his voice matter-of-fact as he stated, “I think I know why Meg called me Clarence now.”  
Dean choked on a laugh.  
Sam snorted, quickly turning it into a cough.   
Cas just stared at them incredulously. “I don’t see why that’s funny.”  
“Oh, no reason, Cas,” Sam said with a grin he was unable to hide. “No reason.”  
It was quiet for a few minutes. They just drove in silence, and Castiel rather liked it. The sound of the engine and the feel of the moving vehicle were soothing. He was just about to lay back down again, when Dean opened his mouth.  
“Hey, Cas,” asked Dean in a questioning voice. “I just have to know one thing.” He glanced back in the mirror, and seeing the open look on Cas’s face, he continued. “Why did you leave your phone in the truck?”  
Cas’ expression turned sheepish.   
Sam, who had turned around to give their friend his own curious look, watched his eyes dart from side to side. Looking for all the world like he was trying to come up with a lie.  
“Yeah, how come, Cas?” asked Sam, adding his voice to the mix.  
“Well,” started Cas. “It was… you see, what I meant to do was…” He trailed off.   
But when both Winchester’s gave him a look from the front seat, he glanced down, and mumbling, said, “I wanted… in the truck… disturb the quiet…” And then trailed off unintelligibly.  
“What was that?” asked Dean, eyebrows raised.  
“I wanted my phone to stay in the truck,” Cas spoke up, lifting his head to meet their eyes. “I didn’t want it to disturb the quiet of the forest.” Sam noticed the flush that had crept up Cas’s neck, all the way to his cheeks. He’s embarrassed! Sam realized.  
“So you sat out in the cold, at the bottom of a well, for how many hours?!” Dean exclaimed, a little incredulously. “Because you didn’t want the “quiet” of the forest to be “disturbed”?” Dean took his hands off the wheel long enough to make air quotes.  
As Cas opened his mouth, Sam started defending the angel. “Oh come on, Dean. It makes some sense. With the snow all around, the woods get really quiet, and it’s actually kind of peaceful…” he trailed off as he finally noticed his brother staring at him like he had three heads.   
Dean sighed in exasperation. “You both are such hippies!” He resisted the urge to throw his hands in the air, as Sam turned in his seat to give Cas a supportive look, which the angel returned with a smile.  
“Don’t even know where you managed to find a whole damn forest in frigging Kansas,” Dean muttered as the Impala continued to eat up the miles beneath them.

* * *

Back at the Bunker, after helping Cas get set up in his room, everyone went their separate ways. There were still presents to be wrapped, groceries to be put away… and in Castiel’s case, Christmas movies to watch and wallow in his failure every time he saw an onscreen tree.   
But because his grace was so low, he actually fell asleep for the first time in… he couldn’t even remember. When he woke up, it was Christmas.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack makes his first appearance! Sort of. #sorrynotsorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have been so nice with all of your reviews, thank you so much<3 Happy day-before-Supernatural-day guys!! "Nightmare Logic" (14x5) looks intriguing, I gotta say. And it's by one of my favourite writers! Anyway, I say just saw the promo photos, and I'm in love with the lighting. The cinematography on this show is always stunning *heart eyes*. That said though. I am *really really really* hoping Bobby's outfit is some kind of undercover thing, cause the heck is with that hat?! I mean, it looks nice! But where is Bobby's trucker hat?? So that's my opinion that you didn't ask for lol Enjoy the second to last chapter!  
> P.S. No, I didn't spell "favourite" wrong lol I'm Canadian.

When Cas woke up, he found his grace had been almost completely restored. He gladly healed his leg the rest of the way, before grabbing his wrapped presents from under the bed where he’d hidden them. He left, heading out to join Sam and Dean for breakfast.  
When he stepped out of his room, he saw Dean step out of his at almost the same time.  
“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said in his usual gruff voice.  
“Mornin’, sunshine!” Dean eyed the massive package under his arm, gaze curious, before grinning at him. “Oh, and merry Christmas.”  
Cas grinned back. “Yes, merry Christmas to you as well. While it is not technically my first Christmas, it is my first time celebrating.” They both started walking down the hallway towards the kitchen. “Of course, I was there for the very first Christmas, with Mary and Joseph.”  
“Oh, no way!”  
“Yes, I was one of the many angels watching over the stable. Although technically Christ was born nowhere near the time that his birth is celebrated. He was actually -”  
“Dude, save the nerd for Sam.”  
At that exact moment, Sam came flying around the corner.  
“Hey!” called Dean. “Speak of the -”  
“Guys!” Sam cut him off, breathless from sprinting down the hall. “Come see the library!”  
Cas and Dean both opened their mouths to ask why, but Sam was already gone, dashing back around the corner.  
Cas turned to Dean, who shrugged at him and continued walking.  
“Hey!” Dean called ahead of them into the room. “Why are y- oh.” He stopped dead, Cas bumping into his back.  
“Dean,” Cas said shortly, frustrated with his sudden stop. He quickly sidestepped the taller man and walked in. His expression quickly turned to confusion. “How-”  
“It’s a Christmas tree!” Sam burst out, no longer able to contain his excitement. “And look!” He held out out a note. “This came with it.”  
Cas and Dean both crowded around Sam’s hand.

I’m sorry. - Jack

Cas sighed. He had been here. And he hadn’t stayed.  
“Where’d he learn to write?”  
Sam shot Dean a bitchface. That’s what gets you about this?  
Castiel walked around them to examine the tree. It was huge, nestled directly into one of the nooks made by the bookcases on three sides. Looking at it, he thought Sam might’ve been able to just reach the top, but not himself or Dean. It was almost scraping the ceiling. The whole thing was covered in little, white lights that twinkled softly. White and gold ornaments, and silver tinsel were hung all over. But at the very top, instead of a star, was an angel. Perched on the highest branch, it watched over all that lay beneath it. Including the squirrel, moose, and little drummer boy baubles directly underneath.  
Cas smiled looking at them, and spoke softly. “I saw him.”  
Dean and Sam’s heads both whipped around from where they’d been admiring the tree.  
“What?” Dean asked, his voice harsh without meaning too. “Come again?”  
“In the woods, at the car. I thought I was imagining it,” Cas said sheepishly.  
Sam spoke up, his tone just as reserved. “I saw him, too.”  
“What?!” Dean and Cas both said in unison.  
“Also in the woods. On the way back to the car.” He shrugged. “I didn’t say anything cause I didn’t want to scare him off.”  
Dean raised his eyebrows and tilted his head as if to say, Yeeaaahhh. Fair enough, kid’s skittish.   
Castiel said aloud the one thing they’d all been thinking. “Why didn’t he stay?”  
They all looked at each other, silent. None of them had a good answer. Or at least, not one they wanted to say out loud.  
Cas broke the circle first, going to pick up his presents where he’d set them down and moved them under the tree next to Sam’s.  
They both looked at Dean expectantly.  
“Oh!” Dean shifted awkwardly. “Nah, I’ll get mine later. Right now,” he rubbed his hands together gleefully. “It’s time for breakfast!” And he trotted off to the kitchen.  
Sam and Cas went to follow him, Sam muttering under his breath, “My brother, ladies and gentlemen. Always thinking about his stomach.”   
“Sam, there are no females here. It’s just me. Why are you putting your hand over your face? Sam, are you alright?”

* * *

They finished breakfast with groans of contentment and full stomachs (“Dean, those were the best waffles I’ve ever tasted.” “Have you ever even had waffles, Cas?” “No.”).  
Dean headed out to grab his presents, still licking whip cream off his fingers, while Cas and Sam went to set up the area.  
They managed to move the tables back a ways (“Damn, these things are solid.”) and retrieved a two-person couch from one of the store rooms, placing it and one of the armchairs already in the room in a semicircle around the tree. A floor lamp pulled over to add more light finished their work.  
As soon as they finished, Dean popped out from around the corner.  
“Where were you?” Sam’s voice rang accusatory in Dean’s ears. Grabbing presents doesn’t take that long.  
Dean just gave him his signature evil grin, saying, “Thought I’d let you two do all the heavy lifting! Also…” he trailed off, but his brother and friend’s questioning looks prompted him to continue. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t find where I hid my presents,” he mumbled.  
Cas had the grace to stifle his laugh with a hand. Sam was not so considerate with his guffaw.  
“Oh my God,” he said, wiping fake tears from his eyes. “My brother’s all grown-up and elderly!” Even Cas couldn’t cover his laugh at that.  
“Oh, shut up,” Dean complained, trying to brush past him to the seats.  
But Sam kept step with him, walking backwards past the tables. Putting his hand on his heart, he continued. “Thank you, Dean, really. I needed that.” He kept going even as Dean growled a warning. “I knew you were always good for a la- oof!” The last huffed in surprise as Dean shoved him backwards onto the couch.  
“Stupid, pain-in-my-ass brother,” he grumbled, grouchily taking the armchair.  
He watched under hooded eyes as Sam grinned up at Cas, who also couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he sat down on the love seat next to Sam.  
“Alright, you two,” Dean barked out. “It’s present time!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the chapter you've all been waiting for! The actual frigging Christmas part, gifts and all!  
> * * *  
> Oh and a huge thank you to Samantha Jane (@Samantha12Jane on Twitter) who shared her bourbon knowledge with my internet friend Caitlin (@squeevening on Twitter) who shared that knowledge with me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so you'll notice I added an extra tag for Sastiel. I'm sure you've all noticed the Destiel in the subtext? Well this chapter is where the subtextual Sastiel kicks in lol I am not a shipper myself (in all my years of being a nerd, I've only ever had three ships), but I have a lot of friends that are, so I kinda wove in a little extra something something for them and those of you that are :-) All of it is only noticeable if you put on your shipper glasses, and you can totally think of any of this whatever way you like! Now, just in case you weren't sure, this *is* the last chapter. Unless... I literally just thought of it writing this, but maybe I could write a chapter from Jack's perspective? Hmm. Lemme know if that interests you, and it just might happen! 
> 
> Something you need to know to enjoy this chapter to it's full potential! The two songs at the end? Yeah, those are straight from Jason Mann's "Christmas with Friends" album, on which Jared Padalecki (Sam Winchester) sings "White Christmas" and Jensen Ackles (Dean Winchester) sings "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". So please put those on when you get to those parts, and enjoy the fic THAT much more;-)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or it's characters, places, or things.

“Well Sam sure as heck ain’t going first,” Dean stated loudly as he passed a present to Cas.  
Cas took the flat, thin package from his hand, both brothers shifting in their seats so as to better see the unwrapping. Cas carefully tore the paper off and… from the look on his face, didn’t understand what he was looking at.  
Dean’s eyes were full of mirth as he watched Cas flip through the magazine he’d bought him. “You’re welcome,” he said with a smug smile.  
At that, Cas looked up and dead-panned, “This is a magazine full of naked women.”  
“Dean!” his brother exclaimed next to him. “You did not…” Sam grabbed the magazine out of Cas’s hands, quickly flipping through. “You got him a skin mag?!”  
Dean threw his hands up, the picture of exasperation. But he was actually just desperate to keep his laughter inside. “Dude should have some fun some time! Now…” He smirked. “Now maybe you won’t be so up- hey!” He glared at Sam, then at the spot on his arm where his scowling brother had smacked him.  
“Don’t listen to him, Cas. Here.” Sam swooped down to snag a bag from underneath the tree, handing it to Cas. “Open mine.”  
Dean just huffed and sat back, hands behind his head as Castiel set aside the magazine. But he leaned forward a little anyway, when the angel started pulling back the tissue paper.

* * *

When Castiel reached his hand into the bag, he found there were actually two presents, individually wrapped. He decided to pull out the heavier one first.  
First he saw white and there were rectangular objects held on with elastics and-  
“It’s a Wii!” said Sam. “And two controllers! And here.” He pulled out the other package. “Here’s a game that’ll take you more than a few hours to finish.”  
Cas unwrapped it. “The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess,” he read aloud.  
“Oh sweet!” Dean seemed excited. “I love Zelda! Cas man,” he said, clapping him on the back. “You’re gonna love it. You only gotta play Zelda once to be hooked for life.”  
Sam stared at like he had three heads.  
“What?” Dean asked.  
Sam just gave a his head a confused shake, as Castiel said, “Thank you Sam. ”  
Cas watched him blink like he just remembered his friend was there. “Oh, you’re welcome, Cas! I, uh, actually got it cause I know you don’t really sleep.” He scratched the back of his head shyly as he spoke. “And I’m pretty sure you’ve watched just about everything on Netflix and I don’t have anymore books to loan you!” He laughed as he said it.  
Castiel laughed at that as well, while his heart filled with warmth. He held a little tighter to the gifts. “Thank you Sam, truly.” His voice was soft, his smile warm.  
Sam blushed softly. Ducking his head, he mumbled, “Not a big deal.”  
“Here,” Cas said, as he grabbed his present for Sam.  
The taller man took it eagerly, tearing the paper off, and tossing it next to him on the couch.  
He looked up at Cas in consternation. “A “hang in there” kitty poster, Cas? Really?”  
“Well, Dean is always talking about how you don’t have decorations for your bedroom, so I thought- Dean, why are you laughing?”  
Sam glared at his older brother, who wasn’t even trying to hold in his merriment.  
“I didn’t even set this up!” he finally gasped, after a moment. “Oh, Cas, I- ” His own laughter cut him off.  
Sam smiled a little in spite of himself. It was kind of funny how Cas misinterpreted his older brother’s teasing. And it was incredibly thoughtful.  
“Thanks, Cas. I’ll… put it on my door.” He chuckled.  
Cas responded, “I wasn’t entirely sure that Dean wasn’t joking though, which is why I also got you- ”  
“Angel lore books!” Sam interrupted, pulling them out from where they were hidden underneath the poster. “Dude, this is awesome! I’ll definitely be reading these later.”  
Sam was absolutely bursting with happiness at this new treasure trove of information. He could tell he took Cas by surprise when he leaned in for a grateful hug across the couch. He felt proud when he noticed that Cas didn’t even stiffen up. He’d come such a long way from the socially awkward angel prick he used to be, and it did Sam’s heart good to think about it.  
“You’re welcome,” Cas said after the embrace, voice soft, eyes down, blushing.  
“Well, since we’re giving out books..,” Sam heard his older brother say, before a package dropped into his lap. “Merry Christmas, Sammy!”  
Sam glanced up at Dean, noting the eager expression on his face before unwrapping the gift. He snorted, as he saw what was inside.  
“I can’t believe you.”  
“What?!” Apparently, Sam’s fond smile did not put Dean at ease.  
He held up the book. “Harry Potter and the Cursed Child? You like Harry Potter more than I do!”  
Dean made a face. “Whaaaaaaatt? No, I, um- ”  
Sam grinned evilly. “You just wanted an excuse to have it in the Bunker, cause you were too embarrassed to buy it for yourself.” Sam noticed Cas’s eyes wide and staring, as if he couldn’t believe he was actually calling Dean on his bull.  
Dean had turned red, crossing his arms and hunching down in his chair. Mumbling, he said, “I wouldn’t mind borrowing it when you’re done.”  
Sam decided, in the spirit of Christmas, to cut Dean a bit of a break. “Really though, thanks. I will enjoy it.” Dean seemed to relax, sinking back into the armchair cushions a little more. “But not as much as you will,” he continued, winking.  
He really enjoyed watching his brother start blustering again, before shutting him up by throwing a bag at his face. Dean just managed to catch it before it actually hit him.  
“Maybe this will make you forgive me,” Sam smirked.  
He saw Dean’s eyes light up and a smile appeared on his face.  
“Hey, Sammy got me pie!” Dean proudly held up the apple and rhubarb pies Sam had bought him.  
“And?”  
“And…” Dean rifled through the bag more. “Oohhhhh, Sammy. Oh, I am going to be a happy, happy man tonight!” Dean carefully examined the bottle of Knob Creek Smoked Maple Whiskey that Sam bought for him, before holding up the two pies still in his lap.  
Dean looked Sam dead in the eye as he said, “We are cooking both of these for tonight when we watch “Silence of the Lambs” later.”  
This made Cas speak up. “Remind me again why we’re watching such a seasonally inappropriate movie?”  
Sam chuckled. “Because Dean always wants to watch a horror movie, doesn’t matter what time of year it is.” He shrugged. “So it ended up a tradition. Y’know. When we actually celebrated Christmas and had access to a horror movie,” he amended.  
“Mmm,” Dean mumbled, still entranced by the bottle of whiskey. “Thanks a lot, Sam.”  
“You’re welcome,” answered Sam, bobbing his head.  
He took a deep breath in. Let it out. Dean and Castiel both noticed, lifting their heads, expressions turning serious as they noticed Sam’s somber expression.  
“I… I actually got…” he leaned down, picking up the last box other than Cas’s that was sitting under the tree. “... one more gift. But…” He felt hesitant. Should he show them? Or would it just hurt them more?  
“Sam?” he heard Cas prompt. At that, Sam decided to tell.  
His voice was soft and low when he said, “I got Jack a gift.” He opened the box, which he’d purposely wrapped so Jack wouldn’t have to take the paper off to get it open.  
Cas and Dean peered in.  
Inside was a pair of grey and white lace-up sneakers that looked to be about Jack’s size.  
“Oh Sam.” Cas spoke in a small voice that made Sam want to give him a hug.  
And Dean’s dismal silence spoke volumes to the younger man’s ears.  
He ducked his head, suddenly regretting his decision. “Got him a present just in case, y’know? Didn’t want him to not have something to open on his first Christmas. Thought it was about time he stopped wearing velcro.” He smiled.  
Suddenly there was a firm hand on his shoulder.  
“I think it was a great idea, Sammy.” Sam looked up at the warm, honest expression on Dean’s face.  
“Me too,” he heard from Cas. “Jack will love these.” When he comes back.  
Sam let out the breath he’d unconsciously held in. Looked up at the two men trying so hard to ease his mind in the face of their own pain. “Thanks guys. I just can’t wait to give it to him in person.”

* * *

Dean’s heart was breaking for his little brother. Sammy always had been a sensitive kid, too much for his own good, more often than not. But in this case, it meant he’d had an easier time than Dean had opening his heart to let one more wayward soul in. Dean was proud of him. But he wasn’t about to initiate a chick flick moment, and his curiosity about something else entirely was getting the better of him.  
“If we could all move on from this Hallmark moment…” Dean ignored the glares directed at him, fond or otherwise. “There is still one more present under that tree.”  
He was referring, of course, to the absolutely massive rectangular box still waiting to be opened.  
“Ah,” said Cas. “That would be mine.”  
Dean watched as Cas got up off the couch, and grabbing the box with both hands, unceremoniously dragged it over to Dean.  
“This is for you.”  
“No freaking kidding.”  
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”  
Once given permission, Dean wasted no time tearing into the thing, completely ignoring Sam’s laugh at his kid-like excitement and disregard for wrapping paper. Castiel just smiled him.  
Suddenly, there it was in his hands. A bright, shiny new guitar in its dark-coloured case.  
Now there was a lump in Dean’s throat. “Cas, I- ” His voice was hushed. He could even see that Sam was stunned into silence. “I haven’t played since…” Dad left me at Sonny’s. And I didn’t know if he’d be back. He swallowed the lump. “... since forever ago.”  
He could sense Sam looking at him, so he turned to see his little brother’s anguished-filled face. Sam knew what memories this brought back. Of how close Dean had been to leaving the life, having a girlfriend, real food, a home. A permanent one. But he’d picked family. He’d chosen Sammy over all of that, and he didn’t regret it for one second. But he knew Sam didn’t see it that way. Sam would always see himself as a burden to Dean, something he was forced into. So he shoof off the gloomy cloud that had started to fill his head and sent Sam a smile. To show his brother that he was alright with no regrets. I’d never leave you, Sammy.  
He shoved down the rest of his feelings, as he forced a smile onto his. He turned to Cas. “How did you know I even played?”  
“The angels were watching you two long before the apocalypse was imminent.”  
Both brothers blanched at that.  
“Oh,” said Dean, effectively summing up his feelings about that revelation in one word. And then three more. “No thank you.” He shuddered.  
“Play something, Dean!” Sam said, effectively ending the conversation.  
Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you’re singing the first one. Y’know, since Cas doesn’t know any ‘a the words,” he added with a smirk, as Sam looked aghast and started to protest.

* * *

Castiel smiled to see Sam reluctantly start singing to Dean’s strumming. He quickly recognized the song as “White Christmas”.

“I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.  
Just like the ones I used to know.”

Dean encouraged him by coming in as backup vocals and then took over for a few verses, but he let Sam finish it.

“May your days be merry, and bright!  
And may all your Christmases be white.”

Cas moved over on the couch as Sam stood up, blushing, once it was over.  
“I’m gonna go bake the pies,” he mumbled. And he walked out the door.  
“That was beautiful. Do you know anymore, Dean?” Cas hoped his face accurately showed his enthusiasm for the request.  
Dean snorted. “Other than “White Christmas”? Just one.”  
Castiel settled himself on the couch, lounging a little as Dean strummed the opening chords. Cas’s mind totally blanked on the song’s title until Dean started singing and his mind became blissfully blank. He was captivated by his friends voice.

“Have yourself a merry, little Christmas.  
Let your heart be light.”

And Cas just laid there, listening to his best friend’s warm voice lull him to sleep, watched the lights on the tree his son brought twinkle through half-closed lids. And he couldn’t remember ever feeling more content.  
And Dean sat there, unable to believe he was actually playing a guitar again. Let alone singing, overwriting his bad memories associated with the instrument with warm, merry ones. And he can’t remember ever feeling more happy.  
And Sam. He bustled around the kitchen, getting the pies into the oven, setting out glasses for Dean’s whiskey, when he heard his brother start to sing. And he stopped for a moment. Just stood there, listening. Smelled the apple and rhubarb wafting out of the oven. And his heart ached for the parts of his family that weren’t there with them. For Jack, naive with no resources, out in the wild. For Mom, stuck in apocalypse world… with the Devil. But he had faith. He had faith in the family that was here, and no matter what, they had this day. A day of warmth and good smells in their own home… something Sam never thought they’d have.

“From now on, our troubles will be out of sight.  
Have yourself a merry little Christmas.  
Make the yuletide gay.  
From now on our troubles will be… miles away!”

So right now, in this moment, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, and Castiel Winchester (“Cas is a Winchester by now, right Dean?” “Oh definitely. Dude’s died enough times to count.”) all know that they have each other. Come what may.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it (unless you want a Jack chapter)! Thank you all once again for all the faves, follows, and reviews, oh! And to that one person that gave me a kudos before I even finished posting XD You rock<3 Huge thank you to my beta RooBear on Twitter, and to all my online friends who encouraged me so much with this. And to every single one you that read and enjoyed this fic. Y'all are why us writers write, after all<3 And go check out my Wayward Sisters tag too! It might be a little rough around the edges cause it was my first fic, but I love those women with my whole heart! So don't be shy, let me know what you thought with a review and come find me on Twitter! @saileensamwitch is where you can find me. I hope you all have a wonderful day watching Supernatural later tonight;-) Bless you all.

**Author's Note:**

> Unless there are unforeseen circumstances, I will be posting a chapter a day, starting today! Supernatural Thursday! Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter! Don't be shy, leave a comment telling me what you think! And if Twitters your thing, come check me out at @saileensamwitch :-)


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